


Sensational

by splishsplashxox



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splishsplashxox/pseuds/splishsplashxox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock awakes to find himself disappointingly alone and decides to enjoy his alone time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sensational

A pleasant smile crawled across the consulting detective’s features as he felt a slight chill work its way down his chest. What a night it had been... His body ached, though he could only enjoy the soreness his muscles complained of, as he stretched his spindly arms and legs. Perhaps it was early enough in the morning, perhaps they had time for one quick round of fun before the real world beckoned them from the sheets. Rolling over, Sherlock was surprised to find he was alone in the bed.

Sitting up slowly, he shuddered as the warm sheet slid away from his body and exposed his unclothed form to the cold. Sherlock could neither hear nor see John anywhere in the room, and from what he could perceive the other side of the door would find him just as lonely. He reached to the bedside table to grab his mobile only to find a note with John’s twisty, medical script. Nearly illegible, in typical doctor fashion.

_We had nothing for breakfast. I’ll try to be back before you’re awake.  
-J_

Mostly out of habit, Sherlock checked his mobile and ignored his text messages; none of them were important. Mycroft had checked on the progress of Sherlock’s current case of a string of robberies from local night clubs, Greg had messaged to see if they would be available for a youth chasing pub crawl in honor of his birthday, nothing of grave importance. Nothing that couldn’t wait for a few more hours.

Long fingers traced the words on the scrap of paper, the back side of an unused offer for free delivery from a rather mediocre Indian restaurant. The paper smelled of John: clean, fresh, a light touch of cologne, and of course a clean jumper for the day. Her majesty’s finest general couldn’t dare pick apart a thing in the way the doctor presented himself to the world. How long ago had John left the flat? Licking the ink on the paper, Sherlock considered the amount of ink that had soaked into the card stock versus how much sat upon his tongue. It couldn’t have been more than an hour old. Grabbing his mobile once more, he checked the time. It was nearly afternoon, and Sherlock wondered how exactly it was possible that he had spent that long asleep.

As he stood from the bed, pulling the sheet along with him, Sherlock got an especially long whiff of John, though this time it had an extra touch of sweat and lust mixed in with the usual scent. How could John possibly think of anything else besides how they had spent the previous night? Sherlock had replayed his personal favorite moments at least a half a dozen times since waking up. That highlight reel seemed to be affecting him a bit more, though, since he had caught such a fresh whiff of John. Coupled with his fatigued muscles, Sherlock found himself crumbling back to his mattress and rolling around on the blankets, trying to inhale every last molecule that was John and John with Sherlock and just John. 

Subconsciously, Sherlock’s hands traveled to his most vulnerable and sensitive regions. Long fingers, perfect for handling instruments and tools with care and elegance, wrapped around his cock and slowly handled the entire length. Surrounded by the very scent of John, on the spot that they had each other, Sherlock focused on the sensations radiating through his hole body as he thought back to their evening: the passion, the struggle, the suffocating need to be as close and as tight as possible. Any space between them was unwelcome. Any part left untouched was unacceptable. The feel of John’s soft locks in his fingers, the rough patches of skin on his knees, the stubble along his jawline, his hot breath against Sherlock’s neck and ears, tongues battling for control as their lips moved together… Palms got sweaty as Sherlock moved his hands faster and faster as he slowly breathed out John’s name.

“You couldn’t have even waited for me before you got started?” an all too familiar voice whined from the doorway. The doctor shot a very disappointed look in Sherlock’s direction.

“You promised you’d be back before I woke up.” Sherlock’s voice was emotionless, as always, though he knew he’d win this argument.

Quickly slipping out of his clothes, John dashed across the room to rejoin Sherlock in the bed. “Not all of us can survive off our own satisfaction, and seeing as we used up a fair amount of fruit and whipped cream last night, I thought I would at least restock––”

Sherlock stopped John’s words as he pulled the doctor’s lips to his and kissed him fiercely. He sunk into the kiss his passion and zest for the morning, for the evening, for his best friend, his John. 

Stunned slightly, John smiled as he returned the chemist’s love. “Good morning,” he half-spoke, half-moaned mere centimeters from Sherlock’s hungry lips.

“It will be as soon as you take care of this.” Sherlock grabbed John’s beautiful hands and guided them down to his cock as he laid back on the mess of sheets and blankets. He closed his eyes and let his sense of touch take charge of his responses. “You’re right,” he breathed out as John’s fingers elicited noises from his throat neither knew the detective was capable of making, “this is far better than any emotions I get from––oh God!”

John smirked, rather pleased with himself, as he lowered his face to Sherlock’s neck, biting and sucking the smooth skin where his neck met his shoulder. “Stop talking, you’re ruining the moment,” he hummed onto the detective’s throat and let his tongue draw shapes along the skin.

At this point, Sherlock could only nod. And he knew they would get absolutely nothing else done today.


End file.
